When Stars Align - Lafayette X OC
by laurensturtle
Summary: A woman at war? They said she couldn't do it, but it's not like she cared. The battle strategist Gaspard Legrand's daughter had recently turned nineteen. She heard of the revolution, but hadn't cared. She was content. Until tragedy struck. Everything she had always been sure of, she no longer knew. Except one thing. She would be the one to free the country. A Lafayette X OC story
1. Prologue

A lock of my long, wavy brown hair fell into my face as I rode through the golden fields of wheat. I flashed a grin at my brother, Nael, as he pulled his horse around in the clearing. I yanked on the reins of my horse, urging it to go faster.

"You are too slow, _petit soeur_ ," he grinned as I reached the clearing.

"Not all of us are as amazing as you, _grand frère_." I shot him a playful glare as we circled each other on horseback.

"Correct, for the first time," he teased and I laughed. We continued towards the hill for several minutes in elated silence. I was to Nael's right as we entered the area. I let out a small laugh as he drove our father's horse in a jump over the fence.

"Now you are showing off," I laughed.

"A little," he answered with a mischievous smile. I shook my head at him and rode up the path in the center of the hill. Once at the top, I pulled my horse, Rachel, to face the horizon in front of us. She was a beautiful white Lippizan dotted with gray. I'd had her since she was a foal and had deemed her Rachel after my mother.

I had never known my mother, but my father told me stories of her throughout my childhood. Supposedly, she was a beautiful woman, and my father met her three years after my brother's mother had passed. They had met in the Caribbean while he was away trading goods from France. She has asked him to take me, as she was too poor to raise another child. And so, I came with my father in his immigration to the colonies. Smiling at the memory of the stories I'd heard so many times, I breathed in deeply, drinking in my surroundings. This was the most beautiful time of day, just before dusk. The setting sun hit the meadows evenly, casting a golden light upon everything as far as the eye could see.

Wait. It was just before sunset? I hadn't even realized.

" _Grand frère!_ It is sunset! _Père_ will be home any minute!" I called across the hill to him in excitement. I nearly laughed in happiness as I galloped through the recently harvested fields of wheat back towards our cottage.

Our father had left on a long trip to France, his birthplace, six months ago. He was to return that night at sunset, and nothing could have dulled my excitement to see him again. I pulled my horse into the stables with Nael coming just seconds after me, and we rushed together into the house. My face was covered with a grin that could have illuminated the entire room as I threw open our wooden back doors. It was almost instantly replaced with a look of concern and confusion as the first thing I saw was my grandmother sitting in her rocking chair with her head in her hands. Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably, moved by the loud sobs escaping her.

" _Mémé_! What is wrong?" I rushed to her side and laid my arm around her shoulder in an effort to comfort her.

" _Mon fils! Mon beau fils!_ " she cried.

"What's happened?" Nael asked, his voice wavering with worry. I noticed the letter discarded at my grandmother's feet. I slowly reached down to see what had her so troubled.

 _Dear Sir or Madam,_

 _We regret to inform you with deep sorrow that Monsieur Gaspard Legrand has passed away on the night of June 19th._

I read the letter aloud to Nael, and my eyes widened at that sentence. My heart began to pound through my chest and tears swam in my eyes, blurring my vision. I blinked them away and drew in a shaky breath before beginning to read again.

 _His was one of the many lives claimed this summer by an epidemic of yellow fever._

I couldn't read on. I dropped the page and threw myself into my brother's arms as it fluttered to the floor. The warm tears began to flow from my eyes, and he and I were soon crying on each other's shoulders.

"We will be alright, _petit souer_ , I promise," he said through tears. He was always the strong one in the face of tragedy.

"We will be alright," he repeated softly. I hoped more than anything that he would prove to be correct.

That night, I could not bring myself to call asleep. Every time I shut my eyes, his voice filled my ears, always saying the same thing.

 _Do what I have taught you to do._

I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to shake the feeling that I could be doing more for him. And I could be. At a certain point, I was convinced. I stood up, pushing my quilt off of myself, and crept to my desk. I composed two letters that night, first to General George Washington, informing him of my departure from home and telling him that I would be joining his ranks once I made my way north. Next, I wrote to Nael. I explained to him how Père had spent every moment with me discussing battle strategies, how to surprise the enemy, how to fight. I wrote also of the time we had spent hunting, when I had learned to operate a musket. I asked him to take care of Mémé for me, and to take care of Rachel. I would be taking my father's horse with me to battle; it was faster, stronger and trained more expertly. I pleaded for him to understand why I had to go. Père had spent all of his life strategizing for the army of the colonies, but his life came to an abrupt end before we could be freed. I needed to finish his work, and I wouldn't stop until we were living in an independent nation.

I signed my letters and sealed them, leaving my letter to Nael on my desk for him to find and taking my letter to General Washington with me to mail. I next crept to my wardrobe, taking only the pants that my father had purchased for me at my request along with some ruffled shirts and packing them into my trunk. I slipped into one of the outfits, and glanced at myself in the mirror. I saw looking back at me not the young woman who would cry for her father, but a strong nineteen year old who was to free her new land. I knew it was impractical, but I also slid in my journal with two of the letters from my father that I had saved during his travels expertly tucked in the pages, along with two bottles of ink and a quill. I picked up my trunk and crept down the stairs. I pulled my father's horse to the front of the house and slid a pack with my father's musket onto it. I would also put my trunk in, after taking some money and food for the long journey from Virginia to New York.

I slipped back into the house and filled the remainder of the space in my trunk with all the food that would last, which was mainly bread. I also went back up the stairs for the last time and took the money that my father had stored in his dresser. I didn't bother with the French money, but I took all the new American and British money he had stored. As I prepared to leave, I glanced into Nael's room as I passed. I would miss him nearly as much as my father once I left, but I had to go. He was soundly asleep, and I was grateful for the fact. It meant that I wouldn't need to confront him as I left. I went back down to our front doors and before opening them, I turned to look back at my beloved home. Next time I saw it, we would be living in a new nation.

I opened the front doors and shut them silently behind me before crossing out porch and walking down the steps. I smiled at the large brown stallion standing obediently in front of me. I placed my trunk into the pack on its back and hoisted myself into the saddle.

Straightening my back with confidence, I snapped the horse's reins and it galloped forwards, carrying me into the unknown.

\--

Is this any good? this was just a prologue, but this is a Laf x OC story. thoughts?


	2. Chapter 1

I signed the letter home that I had just finished composing, and tucked my quill and ink back in between my clothing in my trunk. I clicked shut the gilded buckles and put the trunk back into the pack on my father's horse. It had been three months since we received the letter informing us of his passing. Three months in which I had finally finished the journey to New York City. I sat back onto the wooden bench that was still damp from last night's rain. I looked happily around the bustling city. There were likely as many people walking past my seat as I had met throughout my sheltered childhood on our farm.

I pulled out my journal and began to sketch the park that I was seated in the center of. I was in the shade of an enormous Weeping Willow tree, and light filtered softly through the branches, casting a soft glow on the morning dew. I did my very best to capture it in a drawing, but I could never have captured the feeling of excitement that coursed through my veins, nor the beauty of the people's passion showing through their faces as they passed. I could tell simply from their expressions that many of them were there for the same reason as I: to join the revolution. Their expressions were some that I recognized clearly from seeing them on my own face so many times throughout the past three months. Many of them were students, but not all. There were people ranging from under ten years of age up to those approaching their fifties.

One small trio of girls caught my eye. They were dressed in lavish gowns and had just exited their horse drawn carriage and were holding their dresses inches above the ground as they walked through the streets, taking in all the sights of the city. The first of the girls' eyes sparked with the same excitement as mine, and she was walking quickly around and pulling the other two behind her. The second looked generally excited to be in the city, where everything was happening, but she didn't appear to have a similar passion. She looked to be a bit younger than her the first, who I guessed was her sister, and about my age. My eyes traveled to the third and final girl, and I nearly laughed. Her attitude likely could not have contrasted more with her sisters'. She looked to be maybe two or three years younger than me, and she wore a worried pout. She seemed uncomfortable with the idea of being downtown. I shook my head at the trio and glanced back down to finish my sketch. I wrapped the leather cord attached to the cover around the book, binding it shut. I put the journal away with all of my other belongings and slid back into the saddle of my father's horse.

I led him back to the street and broke into a steady trot as I came closer to the training ground of General Washington's army. It took me at least an hour of riding before I reached the expanse of land on the edge of the island, or maybe it only felt that way because of the anticipation that filled every bit of my mind. I could hardly think straight, and the last bit of waiting before joining the army was weighing down my mind more than ever in the past three months. I stopped my horse in front of the first building down the path, assuming that it was where I would receive my barracks assignments. I opened the creaky door, which instantly gained the attention of the man sitting at the desk.

"How may I help you, miss?" he asked.

"I'm here to receive my barracks assignment," I said, trying not to grin with the excitement built up inside of me.

"You're here to receive your barracks assignment?" he repeated slowly, "Not to visit a husband or brother, maybe a father?"

"That's what I said," I said with a forced smile, slowly growing impatient.

"And you're going to fight in the war?" he asked.

"Yes, and if you don't give me my barracks assignment soon I'll have to take your papers and find it myself. And I don't think either of us would enjoy that much," I responded to his blatant sexism. He sighed.

"Name?" he asked.

"Meredith Legrand," I responded.

"You will be in barracks eight, it's the eighth down the road, and," he raised his eyebrows in surprise, his expression showing that he thought the next part must have been a mistake, "You're to see General Washington immediately."

After he finished speaking, I left immediately, not wanting to spend another moment listening to his comments. I rode down the road for a few more minutes until I reached my barracks. It was a long rectangle, I approximated that it was about the size for four, no, five beds with enough room to store supplies and walk between the beds.

I slid out of my saddle and opened the door to see that I was correct. Five beds. All but one had clothes strewn on then and around the floor near them along with a trunk and a few other odds and ends. One of the beds had whiskey along with several shot glasses. There were some shards of glass on the wood floor near it that I guessed were another glass that they had somehow shattered. I set my things down on the empty bed in the middle of the room and rode off to speak with the General.

He had a separate cabin near the camp entrance, so I rode back the way I came. I walked across his small porch and knocked on his door. No answer. He had asked for me to come, so I let myself into his unlocked cabin. I walked into a small hallway with just two rooms. The first I passed was his bedroom, which was empty, but I head raised voices coming from the next room. I slowly walked up, not sure if I should interrupt.

"But sir, if we attack from the north we will gain the element of surprise," the first man said in a deep American accent. I was still not accustomed to hearing people with American accents, even after my time traveling.

"But we will lose valuable time traveling," said the man whose voice I recognized as that of General Washington.

I walked up to the open doorway and knocked on the door frame, gaining both of their attention. General Washington's face broke into a slight smile.

"Meredith Legrand. Thank you for coming," he stood up to shake my hand and the man with him raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Je vous remercie for inviting me," I thanked him as well.

"As long as you're here, perhaps you can help us settle something," he said and I raised an eyebrow.

"The two of us," he gestured to the man who I did not yet know, "are debating on whether it would be smarter to attack the British forces from the north or the south. What do you think?"

I walked next to where he was standing and looked at the map he had spread out on the desk. I traced a few of the lines with my hands, deep in thought.

"Why not attack from the west?" I asked, "They're on the east coast of the island, north of us. They would be expecting an attack from the south. But, if we attacked from the north, we would not only lose valuable time but likely pass through the British camp, assuming that they are stationed mainly south of their camp. They would spot us and we would lose the element of surprise that we gained from coming north. But, attacking from the west would sustain the surprise in our attack without us having to lose as much time as if we attacked from the north."

They both stared at me for a moment, slightly astonished that I had come up with a solution so easily. Then they both looked back at the map.

"It could work," the man across the desk from us said.

"It most certainly could," General Washington said with a small smile.

"Leave us," he told the man who I still did not know.

"Have a seat," he told me. I pulled out the chair across his desk and sat, popping my knuckles in discomfort.

"I have known your family for a long time, Meredith," he began, "There have always been many brilliant minds throughout it. I can already tell that yours will be another to add to that list."

"Thank you monsieur," I replied, noticing how thick my accent seemed in comparison to his.

"Because of that, I would like you to assume the position of battle strategist for our army. We haven't had anyone good for a while," he offered and my eyes widened.

"Ce serait un honneur," I said, at first not realizing that I had reverted to French, and then translated, "It would be an honor."

"Thank you, you're free to go back to your barracks," he said, standing up with me and shaking my hand as I left.

I left and rode my father's horse to the stables near the center of camp and walked to my barracks. I opened the door, and somehow the room was still empty. The four men had likely gone drinking.

I sat cross-legged on my bed and pulled out my journal. I opened it to a page somewhere in the middle that contained my earlier sketch of New York City as well as a letter from my father. I pulled out the old paper and ran my hand across the words he had written to me. I didn't bother to read it; I'd memorized it. I just needed to see his writing. To have something that he had touched. I ran my hand across the edge of the weathered page.

I'll make you proud, Père.

  
  



	3. Chapter 2

I tucked the old paper back in between the pages of my journal, wondering what Père would say if he could see me now. I like to think that he would be proud. After all, I am following in his footsteps. Dwelling on my father's memory only made me feel worse, so I decided to take my mind off of it. I hid my journal in my trunk under my spare clothing and tucked it under my bed. I slid my shoes back on and walked through the dark night towards the bright, cheery pub just up ahead. I walked in and immediately was hit by the noise. Men were all around me, drunk and yelling happily. The excited atmosphere lifted my spirits in the slightest as I took a seat at the bar.

"Hello there," a booming voice said as a man took a seat next to me. I winced, though I knew that I would attract attention. The only lady in the revolution.

"Now who might this be?" he placed his large hand on my shoulder.

"Meredith Legrand," I answered his question with a sigh, "and you are?"

"Hercules Mulligan at your service," he introduced himself.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"Trying to get me drunk, Mulligan?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What would you say if I was?" he asked with a smirk.

"That you need to find a lady who cannot hold her alcohol," I answered as he ordered me a whiskey. He smiled at my answer. The bartender poured us two whiskeys almost instantly.

"Herc! Come back over here!" a man who I assumed was one of his friends called from across the room.

"Join me?" he offered me his arm.

"I suppose," I agreed with an uncertain smile. We walked together to where his friends were.

"Ooh Mulligan, you got yourself a lady," one of his friends said. He had black hair slicked back to his neck. I mentally referred to him as Hair.

"No, he didn't," I released his arm with a grimace.

"Then you're available?" another of the men wiggled his eyebrows at me. He had long brown curly hair tied into a ponytail and his face was dotted with freckles. He became Freckles in my mind.

"Is my availability the only thing you know how to speak of?" I asked with a stone cold glare.

"And she has an accent too," Hair said to Freckles with a nod, "French, I'm guessing?"

I just nodded, unsure of whether to keep speaking with these men.

"Now what might a lady such as yourself be doing in the army?" Mulligan asked.

"What everyone does in an army. Fight," I responded flatly.

"You're gonna fight?" Freckles asked with a stifled laugh.

"Need I make myself clearer? I was hoping you wouldn't be quite so dim-witted as to not understand a statement," I said coldly.

"You don't exactly look the fighting type," Freckles laughed and his friend who had not yet spoken turned to him and gave him a look of disdain.

"Looks can be deceiving. For instance, you look a decent person, but upon closer inspection, you are an ass," I retorted.

"We got ourselves a feisty one," Mulligan said with a laugh. I had a feeling that he and Freckles were drunk.

"Actually, you don't have one at all," I said, standing up.

"Mulligan, thank you for the drink, but I don't think I'll be accepting another any time soon," I said callously before walking away.

I shook my head at the behavior of the men. But what was I expecting? I exited the bar full of rowdy men and walked down the dirt road back to my barracks. I hoped that whoever else was living in the small room with me would not be as intolerable. I sat down on my bed, which my roommates had left for me, unfortunately, in the middle of the room. There would be two people on either side of me. I pulled out my journal for the third time that day, and tried to escape in my art. I drew everything from home, from the beautiful fields to the old oak tree that I loved to climb. I lost track of the time while I drew in every last detail, and fell asleep with my journal laid on my chest.

"Well what do we have here?" a familiar booming voice that I could not quite place roused me from my sleep. I didn't move as I regained consciousness and I heard several people enter the room.

"Please, she is asleep," another man with a thick French accent chided him.

"What is this?" another familiar voice asked, just above my head. I felt a finger brush my shoulder as the journal I had fallen asleep with was lifted off of me. I snapped upwards and caught his wrist.

"Put it down," I said with venom in my voice as I looked into the man's surprised face.

"You," I said coldly, my eyes narrowing as I realized who it was. Freckles from the bar.

"So you're awake," he said with a smirk and realeased my book. I caught it moments before it hit the dusty wooden floor. I sat back up to see that it was not only him, but all four of the men who I had met.

"Please tell me that all of you are in the wrong place," I asked slowly.

"Nope," Mulligan said as he sat down on his bed. I sighed in disgust and stood up to leave.

"Where ya going?" Freckles yelled after me as I walked out. I wasn't even sure. But I needed to get away from them.

I walked out of the small cabin, journal in hand, and just sat against the side wall. I huffed, releasing a cloud of warm breath that was visible in the brisk night air. Would this really be how I would spend my time in the revolution? Avoiding obnoxious men who think they have a chance with me was not high on my list of priorities. But now I lived with four of them. I heard a creak as the door opened on its rusty hinges and I winced. I hoped desperately that he wouldn't see me here.

"What are you doing out here, mon amour?" the Frenchman asked.

"I am not your love," I replied coldly to his casual use of the term.

"Mes excuses," he replied, making me feel bad, "but what is your name?"

"Meredith Legrand," I told him.

"Your accent, is it French?" I asked and he nodded.

"Would you like to come inside? It is freezing out here," he offered me his hand to stand up and I laughed humorlessly.

"I do not plan on going back in there anytime soon," I decided and he sighed.

"I apologize for my friend's behaviors, they can seem a bit," he considered for a moment, "awful at first." I nodded in agreement as we heard a tinkle of shattered glass come from the room behind us.

"I promise that they are not like that usually," he said.

"You've not experienced disrespect from men in the same way," I said flatly.

"Then one can only hope that they will improve," he gave me a pitying smile. I felt so small in his presence. He was so sure of himself, so confident. I was an insecure woman who was questioning whether she had any business fighting in a war.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" he asked and I shook my head.

"I do not think I caught your name," I said and he replied with a slight laugh, "my name is far too long, so just please call me Lafayette."

I nodded with a small smile. I glanced at the sky as I leaned back against the small cabin and my face broke into a grin. I loved looking at the stars, especially at this time of night. At home, I would often climb up to my roof just to stargaze for hours on end.

"You like the stars?" Lafayette asked, noticing my staring at the night sky.

"More than anything," I answered softly.

"Come with me," he grabbed my arm and pulled me up before trying to take off at a run. I had no intention of letting him drag me to wherever he wanted.

"Where are we going?" I asked, pulling my arm from his grip.

"Do you trust me?" he asked. I had known him for less than a day. I knew it was against my better judgment, but I nodded nonetheless.

"Suivez-moi," he began to run once again and I followed him, unsure of whether I had made the right decision. We ran a little ways until we reached a hill in a small clearing through a thin barrier of trees.

"Look up," he told me and I did.

"Wow," I said softly. We were above the trees that would obscure my view and away from all buildings and people. It was the clearest view of the stars that I had ever seen.

"Why so you love the stars so much?" he asked.

"They remind me that the world is infinite," I said, "which meant to me before that there were endless people to meet and experiences to have."

"But now, it means to me that there are endless opportunities, and that I can seize every one," I finished.

"Sounds like you have big dreams, mon," he paused, "amie,"

I blushed, feeling foolish. I was glad that he couldn't see the shade of red that my skin had taken on through the dark night. I laid down, wanting to just watch the stars for eternity, and he did as well next to me. I sleepily laid my head onto his muscular chest and didn't object when he took my hand in his. His other arm wrapped around me and I curled into his side. I hadn't realized it, but I was drifting into a peaceful sleep in the silent night. I felt him pull me closer to him as I drifted off into sleep, comfortable in his warm embrace.

  
  



	4. Chapter 3

My eyes fluttered open as the rising sun came shining up through the trees, flashing a blinding light onto me. I groaned softly, not wanting to leave the warmth around me. Speaking of which, why was I so warm? I pulled my eyes slowly open to see the trees and grass surrounding me. This wasn't right. No, it was far from it. And then I felt the warm, limp arm that still hung around my shoulder and saw Lafayette asleep next to me.

"Hey," I said softly and nudged him. He grunted but didn't wake.

"Hey," I said more urgently this time and shook his arm. He awoke and groaned, not wanting to get up.

"We fell asleep," I said, realizing what everyone would think if they woke up and we weren't there. His eyes snapped open, likely as he realized what I just had, and he began to get up, but tripped over his own feet. I caught him as I stood up, but his weight pushed me over as well. We ended up awkwardly falling on top of each other. He got up and brushed himself off before helping me up.

"Alright, let's go," I released his arms and set off running through the fields towards camp. I knew exactly how it would look if we were found sprinting into camp together at dawn, our hair a mess and our clothes covered in dirt. In my frantic sprinting back, I got a little bit ahead of Lafayette. I ran up to the door of our barracks and opened it as quietly as I could manage. Bracing myself for the worst, I peered inside.

"Looks like somebody had a good night," Mulligan smirked and I paled. They were all awake.

"So where were you? In a field?" Freckles asked suggestively with his eyebrows raised.

"Do I truly seem the type to you? I thought I had made an extremely different impression." I folded my arms and narrowed my eyes.

"No offense, Meredith, but considering the circumstances..." Hair trailed off when he caught sight of something behind me. Or someone. I turned around to see Lafayette jog in behind me.

"Man of the hour!" Mulligan yelled, "or of the night, eh?"

"Hercules, please, you cannot honestly think that of me," Lafayette responded calmly, reading his implications.

"What else is there to think?" Freckles yelled to us from his bed. I rolled my eyes at the men.

"Think what you will," I said indifferently with a shrug. I didn't have much of a reason to care about their implications, so I simply decided not to. I strided across the room, head held high, and sat onto my bed. Jeers and laughter were coming from all directions and my cheeks threatened to redden in anger.

I laid back against the wall and crossed my legs, grabbing my journal to tune out the men. I delicately removed one of my old letters from Père from between the pages of my book and unfolded the page containing the stories. I hadn't realized that my jaw was clenched in anger until I felt it soften at the sight of the familiar words. I could hear nothing but the sound of his voice as I read, and I began to feel once again like the little girl who would sit at the foot of his chair and listen to his stories. I smiled softly at the memories, my vision blurring from the wetness filling my eyes. I blinked back the tears, knowing that it was neither the right time nor place to reminisce. I ran my fingers over his signature, tracing the curl that he always added to the end.

"Whatcha reading?" I nearly jumped at the sudden sound beside me, but sighed when it was just Freckles crouched next to my bed.

"That," I began to fold the letter. "is none of your business."

"You're no fun," he pouted and I rolled my eyes. And suddenly the letter was no longer in my hand.

"Hey!" I exclaimed as I saw him begin to unfold the letter as he walked to his bed.

"Dear Meredith," he read in a mock French accent. I quickly rose from my bed with my fists balled and went after him. I reached for my letter, but he turned on his heel to bring it just out of my reach.

"France is absolutely gorgeous this time of year," he continued in his mocking accent. I tried again to grab it, but he simply raised his arm, and he was, unfortunately, significantly taller than me.

"Give me that," I ordered, seething. He tapped his lips and furrowed his brow, pretending to be deep in thought.

"I'd rather not," he decided after a moment. I scowled.

"I wasn't asking," I said simply before kneeing him in the gut. He keeled over with a grunt of pain and his arm dropped to his side. I pulled the letter easily from his hand and walked back to put it into my journal. I sat down once again on the thin mattress and opened the journal to a different page after tucking the letter safely into the book.

The men all left the cabin and I gladly watched them go. For a fraction of a second, I was sure that I saw Lafayette glance back with an amused smile.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

For that day, we had no training so I spent my day cooped up in my barracks. It began to rain around noon, and I assumed that the men from my room had retired to the pub for the rest of the day. Trying to pass time, I drew what I thought my mother would look like from the drawn out descriptions Père used to give me. The dark waves of hair that cascaded down her back, her dark brown eyes that held a fiery glint, and her thin pink lips that always held a smile. I drew the final curve of her soft features and looked at the finished portrait. It looked exceptionally similar to each of my other attempts at drawing her. I sighed, longing to one day truly know my mother.

My eyes lingered on the drawing for a few moments more, but I snapped my journal shut when I heard footsteps hit the wooden stair in front of our door. Hair walked in and I sighed once more, not excited to have his company. I opened my book again and leafed through a few of the pages, mainly to avoid conversation with the black haired man who now sat a bed away from me.

"Meredith?" I winced inwardly when he said my name. I looked up from my old drawing and raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

"I'm really sorry about Laurens earlier. I know that he," he paused, appearing to be choosing his words very carefully, "like the rest of us, isn't great with first impressions."

"Laurens..." I furrowed my brow in thought. "The freckled one?"

"Yeah, John Laurens." He smiled faintly at my description of his friend. "Actually, I don't think I've introduced myself. I'm Alexander Hamilton."

I had to restrain myself from gasping. I plastered a thin smile across my face, and replied, "Though we aren't just meeting, it is nice to meet you. And thank you for telling me your friend's name as well."

"I'm sorry again for him. He is actually a decent man when you get to know him," he assured me with a smile. I gave him the warmest smile I could muster as he left.

And then I burst into a panicked search. I frantically tore through the pages of my notebook, reading inserts from some of the old letters to try to find the name. I looked through the scribbled records of the stories from Père that I jotted down when I missed having him tell me his tales. I flipped to any and all parts of the book, knowing that it was somewhere. And that's when I found it. Jotted in my writing from many years ago.

Père was in the Caribbean when he met my mother. Her name was Rachel Faucette, and she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He wanted to be with her, but knew he couldn't. She was married and even had a child. But he was madly in love with her, and they ran away together. Unfortunately, they only lasted a day together because Rachel knew she had to take care of her son, Alexander Hamilton.

I gasped loudly. He was my half brother. And he had no idea.

  
  
  


  
  



	5. Chapter 4

He was my half brother. And he had no idea.

I let out an exasperated breath and leaned up against the wall. I snapped the journal shut and looked out the window at Hamilton's retreating figure. What comes next? Do I tell him? I hadn't a clue how I could.

Hey Hamilton, we just met and all, but your mom cheated on your dad and I was the result.

That would end well.

But if he was here, was my mother as well? My heart leapt slightly at the thought, but I instantly shot it down. There was no way I could tell him. At least not yet.

I pulled my trunk from its place under my bed and flicked open the buckles. I leafed through much of what was in it, but fell back onto the hard mattress of my cot in frustration when I found what I was looking for. Ink stained half of my trunk and belongings, including a majority of the parchment I had brought to write home. I supposed bitterly that I would have to figure this out without the help of my family. I delicately shut my trunk with a sigh and tucked it back under my bed. So I would be cut off from all communication with my family until I could find a shop that sold parchment and ink as well as scrounge up enough money to pay for it. The day just kept getting better and better.

Overcome with fatigue and irritation, I crawled back onto my bed. I was long asleep by the time the men from my barracks finally pulled themselves away from the pub and walked back, undoubtedly drunk as sailors.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

An earsplitting sound pierced the brisk night air, jolting me from my deep sleep. As I sat bolt upright in my bed, I wasn't sure what time it was or whether Hamilton and his friends were back; I wasn't even sure what the sound I heard was. The only thing I was sure of was the genuine panic that filled every part of me. I could nearly hear my heart thumping in my chest as I tried to regain my bearings. After a few moments of panting, the clouds muddling my mind parted and I could think straight. My breathing slowed as I realized that the men were back, so at the very least I wasn't alone, but they were all still fast asleep. It must have been the middle of the night.

Hard as I tried, I still couldn't quite figure out what the sound was that had awoken me. Until it rang out again. A gunshot. We were under attack. I hurried to my feet as another shot was fired, and then another. The men were finally beginning to wake up as I ran to grab my rifle from its place on the wall.

"What's going on?" Laurens asked sleepily, slurring his words.

"Five more minutes," Mulligan whined, trying to cover his head with his pillow. I ignored them; I was in too much of a hurry to do anything more than roll my eyes. They realized at last what was happening when the gunshots came in more of a quick succession.

The ambush on our camp was quickly becoming more of a battle as I ran out the door onto the dirt road. I saw people out of the corner of my eye coming from all directions to join the fight. Leaves crunched underfoot as I began to near the battleground. I raced into the woods, branches scraping my arms, and finally reached the battle almost a mile from camp. I stationed myself somewhere within a line of men that stretched far to my left and right. I began to load my gun as I heard four more pairs of feet trampling the underbrush behind me. The men stationed themselves on both sides of me, and it was oddly comforting to not be alone. I fired across the field into the cloud of ash and gunsmoke, adding another shot to the already deafening clamor of the battle.

I reloaded my gun, cursing the slow process, and fired it across the field. I could never have known if it hit anyone; the air was full of ash and smoke from battle. A scream rang out not far from me, and in the corner of my eye I saw a man fall to the ground in pain. I wanted to drop my gun and help him, but I knew I couldn't.

I gritted my teeth and reloaded again.

The sun was beginning to rise and the sky was taking on a dull yellow color where the smoke above was catching the light. Faint yells, muffled through gunshots, came from all around as I continued firing on the British. Blood splattered the ground, digging into the mud as soldiers' heels pressed it down. Bullets whizzed past my ears, and my knees shook in fear with the knowledge that any of those bullets could have easily taken my life. The smoke that filled the air all across the field was growing more dense by the second; I could hardly see a meter in front of myself. The unwelcome smoke filled my lungs and I burst into a coughing fit just as I fired my gun.

I gasped for clean air in such distress that I didn't realize when a man emerged from the cloud of smoke and charged at me with a bayonet. I rose my head to get back to the fight and my eyes widened in horror at the sight of the man who had nearly reached me. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as I tried to fire my gun but realized I hadn't reloaded. A figure jumped out in front of me to stop him from reaching me.

Stay alive, I pleaded whoever it was who had come to my rescue. In a swift movement, he dodged the bayonet of the other man and stabbed another through his shoulder. The Redcoat fell to the ground as the bayonet was pulled from his shoulder, shining with newly spilled blood.

He turned around with a look of concern when I finally realized who it was. John Laurens had saved my life.

I gave him a nod signifying that I was fine and he gave me a small smile before returning to his station. After that, I was completely shaken. The battle lasted well into the afternoon, but to me it passed quickly in a blur of reds and yellows. Neither side advanced in the war; we ended in a stalemate after hours of trading gunshots. But I was hardly paying attention to that.

Of course I had known that in a war my life would be at risk every day. I had known that freeing our nation meant having blood on my hands. But when the reality of it finally hit me, it just felt so... real. I could have easily lost my life that morning. That simple thought stayed with me all day.

When the battle ended, I didn't go back to my barracks at first. I started to, but somewhere along the path I discouraged myself from going back. I instead just kept walking around the camp, trying to clear my head. I wandered aimlessly down the path for hours. I turned right then left then left again and lost track quickly, often ending up where I had already been. Finally, the sun began to set. I knew I couldn't just keep walking. So I found myself going to the last place I thought I'd end up. I walked up the creaky wooden stairs, my shoes adding to the dirt that already covered them. I pushed open the door and almost smiled as I was once again hit with the noise of drunk yelling men. This time it didn't feel quite as unwelcome. I sat onto one of the stools in front of the bar.

"Strongest thing you've got," I told the bartender and he nodded and went to get me a drink. While he was looking through the shelves, I glanced around. A small smile settled onto my lips as I noticed the four men from my barracks sitting around a table, laughing merrily.

"Here you are," the bartender said, regaining my attention. I thanked him and almost started to drink what was in the cup he gave me before I caught a whiff of it. I crinkled my nose and put the cup back down.

I drank my first glass of the liquid little by little, when I heard someone behind me slam their glass down and start to talk; it almost sounded like a speech.

"I may not live to see our glory." I recognized the voice as Hamilton.

"I may not live to see our glory," the others repeated somberly.

"But I will gladly join the fight," Hamilton continued.

"But I will gladly join the fight," they chorused.

"And when our children tell our story," Hamilton went on. I furrowed my brow. It almost sounded like... Singing?

"And when our children tell our story," the repeated.

"They'll tell the story of tonight," Hamilton finished. A smile began to form on my face.

"Let's have another round tonight," Mulligan decided.

"Let's have another round tonight," Lafayette agreed in his silky accent that reminded me so much of home.

"Let's have another round tonight," Hamilton sang happily.

"Raise a glass to freedom," Laurens joined in softly, "something they can never take away. No matter what they tell you." I smiled at his words, finally deciding to join them.

"Raise a glass to the four of us," Laurens continued.

"Tomorrow there'll be more of us," I added as I reached where they were sitting. They smiled warmly and nodded hellos, so I took a seat with them on the couch where Mulligan and Lafayette sat, dropping myself onto the open spot next to Lafayette.

"Telling the story of tonight," we all sang together. Lafayette stretched his arm onto the back of the couch behind me and I rested my head onto his shoulder. We all sang on for a minute more and I smiled, finding unlikely comfort in the presence of these men.

We finished the song and they all cheered and began to drink, so I shrugged and went along with it. I raised my glass to my lips and began to down the dark amber colored liquid. I nearly spit it out as it burned my throat and I doubled over coughing. I hadn't realized quite how strong it would be all at once.

"Are you alright, mon amour?" Lafayette's arm wrapped around my shoulder as he looked at me with slight worry.

"Je vais bien," I assured him as I sat back up. I was thankful that his arm didn't leave my shoulder, though.

We all sat there for a while longer, joking and laughing as the sun dipped below the horizon. I didn't say much; I could feel the effects of the alcohol hitting me little by little for almost an hour. Then it hit me all at once. Instantly, I felt completely fatigued but simultaneously full of energy. I dropped my face into crook of Lafayette's neck with a groan.

"Je suis fatigué" I whined and Hamilton and Lafayette chuckled at me.

My eyes drifted to Lafayette's ponytail as my chin rested on his neck. He had such cute hair. I started bouncing one of his tiny curls with my finger. I turned back to the conversation, now with a slightly larger smile as I twirled Lafayette's hair between my fingers.

"It's getting late, we should probably start getting back," Hamilton pointed out and everyone muttered agreements.

"Je ne veux pad bouger," I slurred.

"Anyone care to translate?" Mulligan requested confusedly.

"Not now," Lafayette replied with a slight laugh at my words.

"Vous levez," he turned to me and offered his hand to help me up. I looked up at him with a frown. The slight frown faded as I looked at him in the light. The light behind him cast a thread of gold in an outline of his body and highlighted his perfect jawline. Had he always been so perfect? Was that level of perfection even possible? I sighed.

"Je ne peux pas bourger," I complained again, but then I smiled with the idea that had come to me, "allez-vous me porter?"

Meredith" he sighed.

"S'il vous plaît," I begged.

"Fine," he gave in and I grinned. He picked me up from the couch bridal style and began to carry me out of the bar.

"You're so drunk," he muttered quietly.

"I'm sober!" I protested and giggled in spite of myself. I went back to lazily playing with his hair as we left the bar, but shivered when we got outside.

"Are you cold, mon amour?" he asked, always concerned. I nodded and he pulled me closer to his chest. I nuzzled my face into his warm chest as he carried me the rest of the way to our barracks.

Hamilton got the door for us and I breathed in deeply once we entered the tiny cabin again, though I didn't really breathe in anything but the smell of Lafayette's shirt. He even smelled perfect. He walked over to the middle of the room and laid me delicately onto my bed before pulling the covers onto me.

"Thank you Lafayette," I murmured as I began to fall asleep.

"Toujours, mon amour."

  
  
  


  
  



	6. Chapter 5

Lafayette's POV

I woke up early the next morning, despite the late night I had before. I quickly dressed and tied my hair back before sitting back down on the side of my bed to put on my shoes. I tied both and was about to stand up when I saw Meredith still asleep in front of me.

She was beautiful; there was no other way to put it. The sunlight now came streaming through the window, illuminating her hair. Her plump lips fell slightly apart as she breathed, her chest rising and falling peacefully. I could have sat there and watched her for hours, but her eyelids fluttered open to see me watching her. I quickly busied myself with re-tying my shoe, trying to hide my face so as not to let her see the color filling my cheeks. I finished tying my shoe before standing up and went outside for a little while. I enjoyed the warm weather and went to fill my canteen with water only to find Hamilton, Laurens, and Mulligan all standing around the well. They weren't actually using it, but stood congregated around it.

"What are you three doing?" I asked, raising as questioning eyebrow. Hamilton shrugged.

"Meredith needs to change at some point," he pointed out. I hadn't thought of that.

I filled my canteen and we all walked back together. Sure enough, Meredith sat on her bed in a different outfit reading a book.

"Laf, push your bed over here," Laurens called from the other side of the room, making me realize I was staring. I nodded and walked over to push my bed up next to Hamilton's.

We all sat down in a circle on the beds and Laurens began to shuffle a deck cards. We played a hand and I lost horribly. I kept glancing back at Meredith; I was hardly paying attention to the game.

"Laf, it's your turn," Hamilton said beside me. I hadn't realized that Laurens had dealt again.

"Right. Sorry," I picked up my hand and played my Jack of spades. The round ended and I took almost half of the points.

"Laf," Laurens said, trying to get my attention. I could hear him speaking, but I was too interested in watching Meredith to quite realize that he was addressing me.

"Ah, screw it. Meredith," he called over to her. She didn't look up. He sighed dramatically and picked up what was nearest to throw at her.

"Merde," she swore loudly when the shoe hit the book out of her hands.

"Ce quis le baisage?" she said angrily to Laurens as she picked up the book.

"Come play cards," he called over.

"What game?" she rose an eyebrow.

"Hearts. I'll deal you in," he said. She smirked and walked over. I had the feeling she was about the destroy us all.

She took a seat between me and Hamilton as Laurens dealt another hand. Mulligan kept track of points as we played, and she was way ahead of the rest of us when we neared the last hand. It was the second round of that hand, and Laurens lead with clubs. We went around the circle and I waited in anticipation to see who would take the cards. We finally got to Meredith last, and she laid the queen of spades on top of my ace of clubs.

"You little enfoiré!" I swore, shoving her playfully.

"This enfoiré just won the game," she replied and shoved me back. I must have been too close to the edge of the bed, because I fell backwards onto the floor. They all laughed as I stood back up, playfully glaring at Meredith.

"It was an accident," she laughed, her hands raised in mock surrender. I rolled my eyes and sat back down next to her.

"You're so cute when you're angry." She ruffled my hair teasingly. Had she just called me cute?

"Shall we go to the pub?" Mulligan asked and we all murmured in agreement. Laurens packed up his cards up and we all walked down the road to the bright little building up ahead.

We sat down at the couch and chairs around our usual table as Mulligan ordered us a round of drinks. Meredith sat next to me after I rested my arm on the back of the couch.

Warmth filled me as she laid her head back onto my arm. I watched, my smile growing, as she laughed at something Laurens said. I was glad that my friends were getting along, but it's hard to hate someone after you survive a battle with them. I absentmindedly fiddled with a lock of her hair as the night went on, noticing that whenever my hand brushed her neck a pink tint filled her cheeks. And so we sat there for the rest of the night, talking and laughing. All was well.

  
  



	7. Chapter 6

"I don't know what it is about the smell of rain, but it calms me," I said, smiling as I leaned against the windowsill. It had been nearly a month since I arrived, and I was finally getting to know all of the men. As it turned out, they weren't always enormous assholes.

"Really? I hate it," Laurens said and I sighed.

"And here we are again, you're always a downer," I walked back over to my bed and dropped onto the springy mattress.

"Could you two shut up? I'm trying to beat these two at cards," Mulligan said and I rolled my eyes.

"You're awful at cards," I pointed out as he huffed and took another hand.

"That's why I said trying," he said and I chuckled.

I laid there, eyes shut, listening to the rain for a few more minutes. A creak from beside me signaled that the door was opening. My eyes flitted open to glance at who was entering the room.

"Mail," he said, bringing in his crate, "hopefully it's not all soaked."

I furrowed my brow, recognizing the man. Was he the one who was talking to Washington the first day I was here?

"Thanks Burr," Hamilton walked over to the crate and started shuffling through the letters. I didn't move, assuming that I had no mail.

I went back to watching the rain. It was too bad that it was raining, as it was warmer out than it had been in a while. I would've liked to go into town, see the markets and people.

"Hey Meredith have you met Burr?" Hamilton asked, yanking me from my thoughts.

"Sort of?" I replied, not sure how to answer. I mean, we'd met briefly and I'd used that time to basically tell him that his attack plan was stupid. Hamilton's eyes lit up at my answer.

"He's the prodigy of Princeton College," he informed me excitedly.

"Here we go again," Lafayette said tiredly.

"Graduated in two years then joined the Revolution!" Herc added, mimicking Hamilton's excitement.

"An orphan just like me!" Laurens joined in. Hamilton was an orphan? I felt my heart stop as I realized what that meant.

"Alright, enough," Hamilton cut them off, rolling his eyes, "Burr, this in Meredith Legrand; Meredith, this is Aaron Burr."

"Nice to meet you," I gave him a forced smile and shook his hand.

"You as well," he replied with a smile that appeared genuine before taking the crate and leaving again. That was when the reality hit me.

Hamilton was an orphan. I would never get to know my mother. My stomach turned to lead as I sat onto my bed. I would never have someone to call Meré. I walked back over to the windowsill, looking out so that they couldn't see my face. I did everything I could to suppress the hot tears stinging my eyes. I stood there, looking out but not seeing anything. I must have been there for hours, though they felt like minutes.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

"Meredith, we're heading down to the pub, wanna come?" Laurens asked. His words shook my from my daze, distracting me for a moment from my feelings. I hadn't a clue how long I'd been standing there. It was only then that I finally realized that the rain had stopped.

"No. Go on ahead without me. I'm not really in the mood," I turned around and sat on my bed, giving him a small smile. He raised an eyebrow but shrugged and didn't question it.

I pulled out my journal as they left. I flipped to one of my many portraits of my mother, drinking in every detail of her face. I looked at every hard line and every curve, my tears threatening to spill as I wished more than anything to just once see that gorgeous woman standing in front of me. They shut the door, and that's when I was finally done supressing my emotions.

The tears that had been pricking the corners of my eyes now streamed down my cheeks, ruining my drawing as they soaked my journal. She was gone? How long had she been gone? Loud sobs shook my entire body as I sat cross legged, hunched over my journal. I was in utter disbelief. I had never even gotten to know her. I drew in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm myself, but it hardly lasted a second. Tears covered my face and filled my hands as I cried with the force of ocean waves battling the cliffside.

"Meredith?" a quiet voice behind me asked. I slowly lifted my head, almost afraid to turn around and see him standing behind me.

"Can you leave?" I asked as nicely as I could manage.

"Why are you crying? What's wrong?" Lafayette asked, rushing to my side.

"It's nothing." I took a deep breath. "Can you just pretend you didn't see me?"

"Not anymore; I've just walked in on you sobbing," he said softly.

"Just don't say anything. It's nothing. I'm fine." I shook my head, running my hand through my hair.

"Hey. No you aren't. What happened?" He took a seat next to me on my bed, dripping water onto my sheets from his rain-soaked clothing. I finally looked at him. His kind brown eyes filled with concern as he examined my expression. Could I tell him?

"Is Hamilton an orphan? Was Laurens serious?" I asked, longing for him to tell me it wasn't true.

"I- What?" Lafayette asked, taken aback, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer me. Please," I said.

"Yes. He is an orphan. Now can you tell me why you were crying?"

Another sob escaped me at his words, and I was soon weeping once again. Lafayette wrapped his arms around me and my breath hitched at the touch, slowing my tears for just a moment. He pulled me into his embrace that was cold to the touch but warmed me inside.

"Hey. You're okay. I'm here. You're safe." He stroked my hair calmingly. I inhaled deeply and caught the smell of old books and bonfires with my face nuzzled into his arm.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he finally asked. I grimaced ever so slightly, knowing that I couldn't carry on without telling him.

"I have a secret," I finally said, "I'm sorry that I haven't told you, but it's bigger than any I've ever kept." He gave me a look of confusion, so I continued.

"If I tell you this, you have to swear not to tell a soul."

"You have my word," he promised. I took a deep breath before coming right out with it.

"Hamilton's my brother." I sat in front of him awaiting a reaction. I searched his face, the only sign of any feeling lying in his eyes. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

"What?" he asked. No emotion was in his tone. I instantly regretted telling him.

"Well, half brother. His mother is mine as well," I explained. We sat there in silence for a few more minutes, him still holding me. He fiddled with a lock of my hair and I found myself unable to breathe anytime his hand even nearly brushed my skin.

"That still doesn't explain why you were crying, mon amie," he said, finally breaking the silence.

"I just," I began, "I never knew my mother. I've always wanted to, but I've never had the chance. But now, to learn that she's dead, I just don't know what to do."

Tears began to stream from my eyes once again, but I blinked them back. I didn't need his pity. I didn't want it.

"And my father, on top of that. Four months ago my family received word that he passed away." I nearly choked on the sob growing in my throat. A single tear escaped my eye, and the rest followed without delay.

"I'm an orphan, Laf," I sobbed. I no longer cared whether I had his pity. I just needed his comfort.

"Hey, shh. I know," he said softly. He lifted my chin so I was looking at him. He wiped my tears away with his thumb, though it didn't do anything but replace the tears with water from his hands. My breath caught in my throat as I looked into his eyes.

"But you're here now. Here with us. With your brother," he whispered. In a motion so subtle I would've missed if his face were not so near mine, his eyes flickered to my lips. "With me."

He lead my face to his as we both closed our eyes in anticipation. I could feel the warmth of his skin only millimeters away from my own.

Thud.

My eyes snapped open as a boot hit the first step coming up to our barracks. I looked into Lafayette's eyes which were now further from my own as we had both pulled slightly away at the sound. Surprise filled his eyes and I bit my lip, startled at the sound but reluctant to leave his touch.

Thud.

I pulled away from him instantly upon hearing the sound again. We both sat next to each other when the door creaked open.

"Hey guys, did I leave my coat in here?" Hamilton asked, walking into the room. I felt a sort of resentment as he walked in, but instantly chastised myself. He hasn't walked in on anything real. There was simply a moment where I was at my lowest and Lafayette came in at the right time.

"I'm not sure," Lafayette responded stiffly. I tried to catch his eyes but he had fixed his glance on his shoes.

"Well, I just wanted to come get it; the rain is picking up," he said, pulling his jacket on.

"I hadn't noticed," Lafayette said.

"Alright, I'm going to head back to the bar. Either of you care to join me?" Hamilton asked.

"I think I will," Lafayette said. He looked me in the eye before standing up, though I couldn't read his expression. I felt a sort of hurt as he walked with Hamilton to the door, but did my best to brush it off. I had no reason to feel hurt. So why did I?

And they walked out together, leaving me alone with my sadness and newfound confusion.

  
  
  


  
  



	8. Chapter 7

Over the next few days, it kept raining non-stop. I kept to myself for the most part, reading or writing in my journal. I didn't talk to Lafayette about what had happened. I wasn't even sure I knew what had happened.

Later in the week, the rain finally cleared up. Clear, bright blue skies and warm weather to match. Well, warm for a New York November. I didn't bother dressing in uniform, but instead slid on a dull orange sweater that I had essentially stolen from my brother's room just days before my departure. I also grabbed a pair of tan pants and my brown leather riding boots.

Though I knew they would have disagreed, I didn't feel like I was on the best of terms with the four men who lived with me. But I wanted more than anything to go into town. When they finally all left together in the evening, going who knows where, I grabbed my journal as well as all the change I had left and left. I ran out gleefully onto the muddy road down to the stables. York, my father's horse, whinnied as I threw open the stable doors. I lightly grimaced as I remembered how easily startled the stallion was.

"I'm sorry I left you here for so long," I said quietly, rubbing his neck. I kissed his silky coat before dropping my belongings into the bag on its saddle.

I mounted him after leading him out of the stable, and grinning ear to ear, snapped the reins I held. He went forward through the camp at a quick trot and I was surprised at how eager I was to leave. Soon, I was back onto the cobblestone street that lead through the city. I inhaled deeply, knowing that wearing my old day clothes and riding my father's horse was the closest I could get to home. I didn't care too much. The scent of cinnamon lingered under my nose as I remembered my brother's favorite thing in the world: cinnamon rolls.

I walked York over to the market stall to where I traced the scent back. I paid for the decadent pastry with a smile before leading the horse alongside me to a bench at the edge of the square. I took a massive bite from the gooey cinnamon roll, not caring in the slightest as my face was covered in the sticky sweet filling. I finished it in likely under a minute, letting out a sigh of happiness as I licked off my fingers and wiped my face.

A quiet chuckle beside me startled me, as I had thought I was alone in the bench. I flipped the hair shielding my view to my right onto my shoulder to see who sat next to me. I let out a sigh upon seeing his face.

"Merde, Laf. You scared me." I put my hand to my heart as he chuckled. I glared playfully as his amusement.

"What are you doing down here? Where are the others?" I asked with a grin.

"I, um," he coughed, a blush filling his cheeks. I raised an eyebrow at his clear discomfort.

"Well, I headed back from lunch to come check on you in our barracks, but you weren't there," he said, shifting in his seat, "And I remembered you saying you wanted to go into town earlier in the week, so I came here to try and find you."

"Thank you, but I can manage on my own for a few hours," I replied with a chuckle, brushing my hair out of my face. His cheeks flushed a deeper red. We sat there for a few minutes; neither of us said anything, not wanting to ruin the moment. It was peaceful bliss, sitting there looking into his eyes. Unfortunately, I couldn't stop it when another man slid into the seat next to me, draping his arm over my shoulders.

"I see you've met my friend, though why would anyone want to talk to him when I'm here?" I couldn't see him on the bench, but I knew instantly that it was John Laurens.

"And with a body like that," I didn't turn around, but could almost feel him looking me up and down, "Why waste your time with him?" He scooted closer to me and slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I still wasn't facing him, and it became clear that he didn't recognize me from the back.

"Laurens," Lafayette warned, trying to bring his attention to who he was talking to.

"Relax Laf, I'm just joking about you," he snickered, unable to take a hint.

"You should come down to camp with me; I'll treat you right," he went on, his focus back on me. I rolled my eyes as a snort of laughter nearly escaped me.

"C'mon baby, don't you talk?" he nudged me.

"As a matter of fact, I do." I turned to face him finally, hardly suppressing my laughter.

"Meredith" his eyes widened and his face turned a deep scarlet. I burst out laughing at his reaction.

"I take it you have a thing for me?" I teased, nudging his side.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked Lafayette, his eyes still wide. Lafayette sighed at our friend's clear obliviousness.

"On the bright side, you know that I will be coming down to camp with you," I laughed.

"It's not funny," Laurens muttered with a sheepish smile.

"You ought to be a bit more careful who you hit on," I said, still chuckling. He rolled his eyes and finally realized that his arm was still around my waist. He blushed, if possible, even a deeper red as he removed it and shifted away from me a bit.

"Alright, I'll see you guys back at camp later. I have a few things I'd like to pick up." I stood up, grabbing York's reigns.

"We'll come with you," Lafayette stood up suddenly, eager to come. I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm fine on my own. Besides, Mulligan and Hamilton will be waiting for you at camp," I said.

"Okay, see you later Meredith," Laurens stood up and I chuckled at his still pink face.

They walked back down the cobblestone trail as I looked around the square for what I needed. It took me a few minutes of walking, but I finally came across a market stall selling ink and parchment. I picked up a bottle of ink as well as a few feet of parchment before paying the store owner. Glad to have a means of communication again, I smiled as I laid it into my bag attached to York's saddle. I then went down to curl comfortably under a large oak tree with a cup of coffee I had bought from a nearby stand.

I closed my eyes, inhaling the smell and feeling the heat of my warm drink, and a smile came to my face. I took a long sip before putting the cup onto the ground beside me to instead pick up my journal. I sketched my view upwards, the spire of the tree trunk at the edge with the branches sprouting outwards, along with the dim sunset light filtering through to make many of the branches little more than silhouettes against the bright sky. I drew a stroke of one of the final branches before lifting my head to look above myself once more, but something caught me eye on my way.

A familiar looking trio stood in front of me, though I couldn't quite place where I had seen them before. I eyed them quizzically as they strided through the square, nearly dancing. Their demeanor was altogether one of joy, but the third of the girls looked less than happy. It finally struck me that these were the same three girls I had seen in the square just a month ago. I furrowed my brow. They looked wealthy, from their fancy shoes to how their hair was perfectly parted.

Apparently, someone else had the same thought. I watched Burr approach them, looking full of himself and confident. That confidence was clearly misplaced, I thought, as they didn't look exactly pleased to meet him. Nevertheless, the smug look never dropped from his face. I rolled my eyes, shutting my book and slipping it into my bag to walk over. 

"Burr! Lovely to see you. How's your day been? Harrassed many women? Or are these the first?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Meredith. Always a pleasure," he forced a humorless smile, "I was just having a nice chat with these three."

"Is that the phrase they use here in the colonies for being rejected by someone? I haven't heard it; I suppose I'll have to add it to my vocabulary," I said, raising my eyebrows. In the corner of my eye, I saw the three women in front of me all covering their mouths, doing a poor job stifling their laughter. Burr forced a laugh.

"I guess I'll see you all around," he said, still smiling, but his eyes narrowed in annoyance. I rolled my eyes as he walked off.

"That asshole." I shook my head before turning to the trio who still stood in front of me.

"That was hilarious," the one in pink said.

"I'm glad you think so," I said with a chuckle, "I've had a month learning how to deal with the men in the army."

"The army," she started, knitting her brow in confusion, "but you're a woman."

"That I am. Meredith Legrand," I extended my hand in greeting. She shook it with an expression that was somewhere between confusion and amusement.

"I'm Angelica Schuyler," she said, "and these are my sisters, Eliza and Peggy."

"So you've been in the army for a month?" she questioned, a smile playing at her lips. I nodded.

"I work as a battle strategist for General Washington," I explained, "It's usually nice, but the four men I live with are often complete asses."

"You live with four men?" Peggy asked, scrunching up her nose in displeasure.

"Unfortunately," I laughed, "Where are you three from?"

"We live a little way upstate," Eliza said.

"Then you're a long way from home. And I suggest you get back; this isn't a great place for three lovely ladies after sundown," I advised.

"You sound like everyone else," Angelica rolled her eyes, "we're here to see the revolution. I'm looking for a mind at work."

"There are very few of those in the revolution," I chuckled.

"Though I suppose downtown is just as good a place to look as any. Find anyone yet?"

"You're the first," Eliza said with a wink.

"I'm flattered, but you're not really my type," I joked.

"I'm hurt," she faked a pained expression and placed her hand on her heart. We both burst out laughing after a moment.

"I can't tell you how nice it is to talk to women for a change," I said, still giggling.

"I can't imagine being exclusively around men," Eliza said.

"I remember a time when I couldn't have either," I sighed, looking out on my camp just past the city. Lights were starting to go out.

"It's about time for me to get back to camp, though. Please tell me this isn't the last time I'll see you?" I asked.

"It won't be."

  
  



	9. Chapter 8

Let me just say that I am terrible at delivering news.

For instance, news about one of my new friends actually being my half brother.

Perhaps it's my stuttering, mumbling, or slurring words when I get stressed that make it so bad, or otherwise my ultimate bluntness.

So, when I have to deliver news, I put it off. And I put it off. And I keep putting it off until the day that delivering the information becomes crucial.

Though, I will try to deliver the news.

And, I tried.

I began to leave our barracks, still mentally preparing myself for the conversation. I was going to ruin everything. I knew it.

"Hey Meredith?" Hamilton called after me as I opened the door.

 _He knew,_ I thought, _he had figured it out._

I mentally cursed as my heart skipped a beat and then proceeded to pound through my chest. I turned around, attempting to wear a look of innocent curiosity.

I raised an eyebrow, afraid my lips would betray me if I were to utter a single word.

"Can you grab my boots from outside?"

I hadn't realized I had been holding my breath until I exhaled deeply, overcome with relief. I hurried out of the small cabin and grabbed his boots before opening the door ever so slightly.

"Hamilton," I called and he looked up, "catch."

I tossed him the boots and had to suppress a laugh as one of the boots hit him in the face, though the others didn't even attempt to stop laughing. I giggled slightly as I shut the door, going to wait for them outside. Once the door was shut, I inhaled and exhaled as deeply as I could manage, trying to calm my nerves.

I stepped down onto the path and paced across the ground in front of our barracks, clouds of dirt freeing themselves from the earth with every step. This time, I was just being paranoid. He hadn't found anything out. Next time, I might not be so lucky. I knew that I finally had to tell him. Breathing heavily, I practiced my words in my head.

 _Hamilton, at some point when you were a baby, your mother and my father-_

I knew without even finishing my thought that it would go terribly if I went down that route.

 _Hamilton, guess what? Turns out I'm your half sister. Crazy, no?_

I wished it would be that easy.

 _Hamilton-_

My thoughts were interrupted by several pairs of boots walking across the wooden floor behind me. I cursed as I realized I would just have to do my best. They all exited the small cabin and I took a deep breath before stopping Alexander.

"Hamilton, before we leave, can I speak to you for a minute?" I asked as he hit the bottom step going out. He raised an eyebrow and stopped in his tracks.

"Sure, what do you need?" he asked as the others all left. I was glad they wouldn't be there at the time.

"Come back inside." He looked at me quizzically but obliged all the same. I followed him in and shut the door behind me before checking to make sure that the others were a safe distance away. There would likely be yelling.

"Alright, I don't know how to put this into words." I ran my hand through my hair.

"So, there is a thing about something in my life, well I guess in actuality _someone_ , but um-" I began to ramble, but he cut me off.

"Oh," he said slowly, "this is the thing... the one Lafayette-" This time it was my turn to cut him off.

"He told you?" I asked, color draining from my face.

"He didn't exactly _tell_ me," he said, a smirk growing on his face.

"Are we speaking of the same thing?" I furrowed my brow.

"Come on, Meredith, you don't have to be a genius to be able to tell that you and Laf are together," he winked. I raised my eyebrows.

"I'm sorry?"

"It's alright, Mer, it's no big deal." He stood up, pulling his coat back on.

"No- I- He-," I sputtered, "We aren't together!"

"Whatever you say." He rolled his eyes with a grin before walking out. I groaned before following him.

I pulled on my coat as we walked to the pub, he and I side by side. The others were a bit ahead of us.

"So how long have you two been a thing? I'm betting that it started a week after you got here, but Mulligan thinks it's more recent," he said quietly after checking to make sure the others were out of earshot. I rolled my eyes at his accusations.

"You both lose your bets," I said, "The two of us are friends, nothing more."

"So then what was that thing I walked in on about a week ago?" He smirked, knowing he'd cornered me. My eyes widened. _Merde_.

I cringed, thinking back on the moment and wishing it had never happened.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I attempted to play dumb, but he saw right through me.

"Don't even bother," he rolled his eyes, "the tension was so thick after I walked in I could have cut it with a saber."

But then his smirk fell, a thought striking him.

"Did I interrupt you two making out?"

I groaned as he began to talk again.

"Because if I did, Meredith-"

"You didn't interrupt anything!" I exclaimed, my cheeks furiously red for reasons that no longer had to do with the cold.

"How did we get on this anyway? I was trying to tell you something important and you started spewing this... this nonsense!" I sputtered furiously. He just chuckled.

"Why are you possibly laughing right now, Hamilton?" I said, staring daggers into his smirking face.

"I can't tell whether you're in denial about your feelings or trying to hide your relationship, but either way it's hilarious," he said. I huffed as we reached the pub steps.

"We do not speak of this around anyone else, get me?" I said seriously.

"Will do." He gave me a lazy grin, hopping up the steps in front of me.

"M'lady." He winked as he held the door for me to go in.

I rolled my eyes before walking past him into the warm building. The other three men were in a cluster at our usual spots, having a heated discussion while Lafayette's cheeks appeared to be burning. I stifled a giggle at the group before walking over.

" _Hé,"_ I greeted, walking over to the group.

"Meredith!" Mulligan met my words almost too gleefully. Something was up. I gave him a quizzical look that he chose to ignore. "I got you a drink."

"You trying to get me drunk?" I gave him a lazy grin, remembering my first day here. He matched my expression, handing me a pint of Sam Adams as I sat down next to him.

"It feels like so long ago, the night you got here." Laurens waved his pint at me, a far off look in his eye. Tipsy already? It was likely.

"You are _not_ getting emotional on me here, Laurens." I chuckled, taking a swig of my own beer.

"But it's been so long! Look at where we are; look at where we started!" He began to stand up, and I groaned as Lafayette started to chant.

"Speech! Speech! Speech!"

"Please no speech." I gave Laurens pleading eyes; he pursed his lips as though considering it.

Which only made Lafayette chant louder.

"Speech! Speech! Speech!"

"Why are you doing this to me?" I dramatically sighed and leaned my head onto Lafayette's shoulder, pretending to faint.

"You're just so cute when you're upset." I gave him a pout and he laughed before pinching my cheek.

" _Connard_ ," I muttered, shoving him away. He chuckled as I playfully glared.

We both settled back into the places we had previously sat, shadows of our laughs still written on our faces. My grin died as Hamilton caught my eye, raising an eyebrow and smirking. I gave him the most annoyed look I could muster and rolled my eyes. His smirk didn't falter in the least.

I averted my eyes from his smug expression, looking back to Laurens who looked ready to give a speech. I huffed.

"Okay, I don't have a speech to make, but I'd like to make a toast. Here's to us, finally back together after the battles we've fought. Here's to making the most of our time here before they send us back to our stations. Here's to the one of us who wasn't at those stations with us, but will be." He winked at me and I smiled before he raised his head once more, finishing his speech. "Here's to us!"

They all whooped and laughed before drinking as much as they could in one gulp. I sat there for a moment, pondering his words.

"Let me get this right, you've all already been at war?"

"Oui, mon amie. It's been a long time." Lafayette placed his drink back onto the table before reclining over the cushions behind him.

"We're back for a while because some of the soldiers needed to visit their families. Me though? All the family I need is right here." He raised his glass appreciatively and winked.

"I'll drink to that!" Laurens whooped, throwing his head back as he drained his glass.

"You just wanted an excuse to keep drinking!" Hamilton yelled accusingly. _Merde_ , they got loud when they drank.

"So when did you all go to war?"

"1776," they chorused back at me, clinking their glasses with each others'.

"Almost three years..." I laid back, processing that.

"Another round! We drink for three years an army!" Lafayette cheered as Laurens returned, bearing another round of beers. I groaned.

"If you are all drunkards when we go back to our barracks, don't expect my help." I rested my head on my hands as I leaned on the table, exhausted by the four men.

"Drunkard means someone who gets drunk often," Hamilton corrected me.

"You caught my meaning, no?" I quirked up an eyebrow at him and he nodded.

"So when do you go back to your stations?" I reverted my attention back to the full group, sitting back up.

"It can't be long now. But this time, you're coming with us." Herc threw his right arm around my neck, giving me a bear hug.

"If you snap my neck trying to hug me, I will haunt you forever," I said, my voice dying as I ran out of air and couldn't take in more. He chuckled and released me, much to my relief. I gasped for air, rubbing the sides of my neck.

"You need to learn how _not_ to hurt people," I teasingly lectured him, shoving him lightly.

"You're just too delicate." Laurens leaned over and ruffled my hair, mocking my annoyance with a fake pout.

"Every single one of you is an asshole. I've said it before; I'll say it again." I folded my arms, sitting there and forcing myself to deadpan.

"You love us." A grinning Lafayette threw his arm around my neck, clearly drunk at this point. He was too busy shaking my shoulders to notice my face going embarrassingly red. Hamilton wasn't.

I mouthed some choice words at him as he made kissy faces at me. He was tipsy, but as my luck would permit, sober enough to tease me. He put his hand on his heart and mimicked a girl swooning. I pretended to gag in response.

Another round later, everyone was drunk off their faces except for Mulligan and me. They began to stagger back, basically unable to walk.

I sighed, pinching bridge of my nose as Mulligan had to go support Laurens and Hamilton as they tried to get across the path. I copied the action with Lafayette, putting my arm under his shoulder to support his weight as I lead him down the path.

" _You know, Meredith, I don't say this enough, but you're the best,"_ he slurred, reverting to French in his drunken state.

"I know, Laf. Shut up until we get to the barracks."

" _I mean it. You're brilliant and helpful and pretty and kind and hilarious. You're better than all the stars in the sky."_

 _"_ And you're more drunk than all the sailors on the sea. Now shut your mouth before you make yourself sound more stupid than you already do." I shook my head, chuckling at his annoyed groan.

" _Why can't I just compliment you, love_?" I tensed up at his last word, knowing that he was utterly wasted and therefore his words meant nothing.

"I'm still not your love," I reminded him quietly.

" _But you will be! I will be sure of it!"_ I giggled at his proclamation. I also had a vivid memory of him drunkenly telling me that he was going to steal every wig from England. We were supposedly going to call him 'Sir Powderhead.' His drunken decisions weren't exactly set in stone.

"Sure I will. Get to sleep." I brought him into our barracks, dropping him onto his mattress before going to lie down as well.

I fell onto the springy pad, exhausted and yet too uncomfortable to sleep. I could feel Lafayette's gaze burning into my back. I heard a sigh from his bed and turned to see him watching me with a glazed expression.

"If you don't at least try to sleep right now, I'm going to leave and sleep outside," I threatened with an amused smile before turning back over. Laurens was on my other side, already snoring.

I sat up, bringing myself to the edge of the bed, when Herc dropped down next to me.

"I swear, sometimes I think these three need parents with them." I chuckled; his words were too true.

"I guess we know what that makes us."

"What, married?" he retorted, coaxing a laugh from me.

"Exactly, _dear,_ " I teased. We sat there together for a moment, smiling lightly, before he broke the silence.

"Hey Meredith?"

"Hmm?"

"Lafayette..." he took a deep breath and slowly began, "He cares about you; he really does. I just need you to know that no matter how drunken, his words aren't empty."

I furrowed my brow.

"Please, don't hurt him."

He put a hand on my shoulder, helping himself up.

"Get some rest, Mer. Night."

It took me a minute to move; I was stunned by his words. Eventually, I laid down and curled myself into a ball, quickly slipping into a state of sleep weaved with dreams of chocolate curls and a particular Frenchman.


	10. Chapter 9

_Creak._

I turned over, trying to ignore the noisy motion coming from the bed beside me. It returned, this time accompanied with a whimper. I huffed, trying to cover my ears with my pillow.

It didn't help.

After a moment, I took a deep breath before turning over to see Lafayette violently tossing in his sleep. I creased my forehead in concern, wanting to help him but not knowing how. I was somewhat afraid to wake him. I slowly shuffled over to his bed and crouched at his side. He tensed up as I took his hand, but was still violently shaking. I silently cursed, not a clue in the world what to do.

After some time of me watching him sleep, trying to figure something out, a thought struck me and I bit my lip, figuring that it would be as helpful as I could get. I inhaled deeply and hummed the first few notes, trying to remember the tune. Then, I began to softly sing the lullaby of my childhood.

 _Bonne nuit cher enfant_  
 _Quand tu dors dans mes bras_

His body relaxed as I began to lull him to sleep. I still held his hand, rubbing circles into his palm, and placed my other hand on the bed.

 _Le monde tourne en rond_  
 _Et le jour reviendra_

His head fell onto my free hand and I smiled before turning over my hand to hold his head.

 _Jours de larmes_  
 _De sourires_

Another shudder ran through his body, and I began to trace his hairline with my thumb, coaxing him away from his nightmares.

 _Jours de peines_  
 _Ou de joies_

He exhaled deeply and I began to remove my hand from under his head, still wary of waking him. I played with one of his curls between my thumb and forefinger as I finished the song.

 _Mais ce soir tu t'endors_  
 _Comme un ange dans mes bras_

I stayed crouched next to him for a moment, slowly releasing his hand. His sculpted features remained etched with worry, though his expression had softened. I watched his eyelashes flutter in his sleep and I smiled, proud of myself.

I began to stand up and walk to my bed when something grabbed my wrist. I inhaled sharply as I whipped around to see Lafayette staring at me, now holding my wrist.

A sleepy smile filled his face as he said, "You have a beautiful voice, amour."

I sighed.

"You just had a nightmare, so I won't correct you," he chuckled quietly at my words, "now get back to sleep."

I tried to turn and leave, but he didn't break his grip on my wrist.

"Laf, let go. I'm tired."

" _Non,_ I'll just wake you up again."

"Not letting me sleep won't help." I sighed.

"Stay with me; you make my nightmares go away," he pleaded.

"I'll just be one bed away. You'll be fine." I shook my head and tried again to walk away, but he still didn't let me.

" _S'il vous plaît?_ " I looked down into his begging eyes, feeling heartless to say no. I sighed.

"Are you ever going to let me sleep if I say no?"

"If you say yes, you'll never have to find out."

I huffed.

" _D'accord._ "

He smiled and shifted over, making room for me. I climbed onto his tiny mattress, trying not to take up too much room as well as not to bump into him, though it was essentially useless. There was nowhere to where he wasn't. We ended up curled up with his chest against my back and his legs behind mine.

"G'night Laf," I murmured into his arms that were wrapped around my torso.

"Goodnight, amour."

"But did they?"

A murmured conversation behind me slowly dragged me out of my deep sleep, and I quickly remembered what had occured in the middle last night.

"I dunno, they look fully clothed."

"They could've put their clothes back on."

"We would've heard moans."

"Though, why else would they be in a bed together?"

"Maybe they got cold?"

"You don't sleep with someone when you get cold."

It took up until that sentence for me to fully realize what was being debated. I clenched my teeth, feeling murderous.

"But would Meredith really? So soon?"

 _Laurens, I take back everything I've said against you,_ I thought.

"I wouldn't put it past her."

 _Hamilton, I really wish you weren't my brother._

"Or him, for that matter."

I tensed up at that, holding my breath as I remembered what Herc had been telling me last night. Had he been being honest?

I felt the heart behind me start beating more quickly. I squeezed Lafayette's hand, trying to keep him quiet. I wanted to hear what they had to say. They were all huddled behind us on Mulligan's bed.

"I'll bet they did. After all, would you look at her?"

Lafayette's body became tense around me.

"We all know you're into Meredith, John. Not exactly helping us right now, though."

I elbowed Lafayette lightly in the gut as he began to squeeze my hand protectively.

"So how do we know?"

"We have to ask them."

They say there in silence for a moment before I decided to fill it.

"We didn't."

"Right." Hamilton eyed me skeptically as I sat up.

"This is the second time, Meredith. You two need to control your hormones." Mulligan winked at me and I glared.

"And you need to watch your mouth, Mulligan," I snapped at him as Lafayette sat up next to me. Because of the positions we were in, that motion just pushed me onto his lap.

"Actions speak louder than words, Meredith." Hamilton smirked.

"Leave us alone, _piqûres."_ He placed a hand on my shoulder that was likely supposed to calm me, thought it didn't help in the least. Mulligan cocked an eyebrow at me, smirking, and Laurens clutched his heart, letting out an 'aw'.

"Look at you, defending her honor. How cute."

I huffed, standing up.

"I'm not dealing with this today. Have fun getting no help with your hangovers."

I grabbed my clothes from my bag and went out to the showers to change.

I huffed as I slid on my shirt, which sagged down to my thigh. I furrowed my brow, as all of my shirts had fit up until then. I looked down in confusion and saw a shirt that did not happen to be my own.

I groaned and ran my hand through my hair, frustrated at my luck as I realized that I had taken Lafayette's shirt. But I refused to go back to the barracks.

I emerged from the bathhouse somewhat disgruntled and tried to get to my horse without any of them seeing me.

"Sharing clothes now?" A smirking Hamilton stood leaning up against the stables. I sighed and just walked past him but sighed as I heard his footsteps behind me.

"C'mon, I'm just joking."

I raised an eyebrow as I mounted my horse.

"That is, about the sharing clothes. I bet that actually was an accident."

That sounded more like him. Rolling my eyes, I snapped York's reigns and blew by Hamilton as I rode out of the camp.

I rode up the muddy path and cringed as I thought about where to go, knowing that downtown would be bubbling over with people. The thought of being in the packed square made me feel more uneasy than going to war.

I rode York to the town, and had I trouble spotting the crowds. I shook my head, wishing for everyone there to simply disappear. After the night I'd had, I just wanted a day away from everything. So I kept riding. And riding. Until finally, the crowds began to dissipate.

Finally, once we were in a quieter part of town, I slowed York to a steady walk. I breathed in the sunlight, deciding that I much preferred uptown to downtown.

I rode through the streets slowly, speeding up only once when a lady began to chase after me when I picked an apple from her tree. I giggled at the memory as I finished the fruit, discarding the core.

I rode through past the houses slowly, taking the time to drink in the atmosphere as I toured the town. I brought York to a stop, amazed as I came across a house that appeared as though it could house the entire army. I chuckled, fantasizing about one day living there.

A shining pink dress reflected the sun into my eyes and I squinted, trying to see the road in front of me. But then the woman walked into the shade and I rose my eyebrows, hardly believing who it was.

"Angelica Schuyler!" I yelled in jubilant disbelief as York brought me closer to the house.

"Meredith Legrand? What're you doing uptown?" She grinned, rushing over to me.

"I'm looking for a mind at work. I've tried the revolution, but it's all out," I joked, "but it seems I may have just found one."

"I believe you're correct. No finer minds exist across the land." She sighed dramatically as though it was a tragedy, and I laughed.

"Now why are you really here?"

"I'm escaping," I chuckled as I dismounted York, "The men from my barracks at camp have managed to start a rumor that I slept with one of them."

She groaned, frustrated on my behalf.

"If I were you, I would despise those men."

I sighed.

"You know, I've tried. Somehow, I can't seem to." I furrowed my brow, pretending to be deep in thought. She chuckled.

"Do you have any idea where I can find food out here? Any sellers? I've managed to skip both breakfast and lunch." My stomach grumbled, as it was already the afternoon.

"Well, I know there's some great food in there. Excellent cook." She smiled widely and pointed to the mansion behind her.

"And how exactly might one get some of that food?" I raised an eyebrow.

"All you need's an invitation from a Schuyler. And you've just stumbled across the best one." She flipped her hair in jest. My jaw dropped.

"You live there!?"

"I do, as a matter of fact. Come in with me; stay for dinner. My family will love you and Eliza and Peggy will be glad to see you again."

"I'm not turning down a full meal. If only you could see what we eat in the army." I huffed, remembering the two pieces of bread I'd had in the past three days.

"Let's go."

 **A. Ham's POV**

I groaned, falling back onto my bed. Meredith had been gone all day and Lafayette was bitter at our accusations, refusing to even play cards with us. I was out of my mind with boredom.

"When's Meredith coming back?" Laurens whined, lying on his bed.

"Probably when we stop teasing her." Mulligan chuckled.

"She's so sensitive; I'd be happy to be accused of sleeping with someone."

"Well you're a prick. She's a normal person with feelings that function normally." He rolled his eyes at what I said.

"Hey Laf, when are you going to stop being annoyed?" he yelled over.

"When you stop being annoying, mon amie," Laf replied without so much as looking up.

Laurens groaned again and I chuckled, rolling my eyes. I laid back and shut my eyes, when I heard footsteps suddenly walking across the floor.

"John, what are you doing?" I asked tiredly as he crouched next to Meredith's trunk. He didn't answer me as he grabbed a leather bound book and began unraveling the cord that held it shut.

"John," I warned. I recognized the book as Meredith's journal and wished he would just put it down. I didn't have the energy to stop him from looking through it.

"What's the harm? She's out; she'll never know we read it." He shrugged.

"Do whatever you want, just don't involve me." I rolled onto my side, wishing I could sleep away my headache. I shook my head at him as I heard the weathered pages begin to turn. I turned back over upon hearing a small gasp from him.

"Come here." He turned the page again, appearing awestruck. I raised my eyebrow and slowly walked over to his bed. Looking over his shoulder, I could see the outline of a landscape. The full drawing came into my view as I sat next to him.

It was breathtaking, how she managed to show every curve and every shadow with nothing but ink and a pen. He turned the page, the next holding a drawing of an old oak tree.

Mulligan and Lafayette soon joined us in looking at her art, mesmerized by each landscape or still life. We neared the end of the book, and everything began to have a similar theme; I recognized all of her drawings from downtown.

Until we reached one of the last.

It was a portrait, filled with so much detail that you could practically see the woman there. The flow of her hair, her hard jaw, it just seemed far too familiar. I'd have recognized that face anywhere.

As if on cue, Meredith came strolling in at that exact moment. My blood was boiling as I saw her push the door open.

"Sorry I've been gone so long. I brought a bag of rolls and sticky buns, though." She dropped her leather sack next to the door, and the others didn't hesitate to start going through it.

"Ugh, Meredith, you're an angel." Herc fished out a roll, hungrily tearing off half of it with his teeth.

I roughly yanked her journal from Laurens's grasp before shoving her against the closed door.

" _Ce quis la baise?"_ she yelled, struggling in my grip.

"Hamilton, calm down. Let her go." Laurens rushed over, his eyes wider than hers.

"Who are you really?" I growled.

"What are you on about?" She was wearing an expression to match mine: anger tainted only by shock.

She finally succeeded in shoving me off of her, and I simply lifted the journal. She took one look the page before her expression softened, melting into one of horror and apology.

"What've you got to say for yourself?" I clenched my teeth, throwing the book onto Mulligan's bed.

"I haven't lied to you." She bit her lip.

"Then how do you explain that?"

She sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"I've been trying to tell you. I swear I have." She hung her head, rubbing her temples. I balled my fists, ready to pounce on her next words. Any yet, I wasn't ready for what she had to say.

She took a deep breath, lifting her head to look me in the eye.

"I'm your sister."


	11. Chapter 10

"I'm your sister."

I released my fists, paralyzed by shock.

How could she be my sister?

I blinked hard, suppressing tears that were pooling up in the corner of my eye. I knew in that moment, if nothing else, I could read on her face that she was telling the truth. I hated her for it.

And another question arose in my mind.

How could she not tell me?

I stared at her, still processing my shock.

I had family left.

"My sister... ?" I took her biting her lip and looking at the floor as confirmation enough; I could see as she was failing to hold back her own tears.

And then it dawned on me.

"The French trader."

I'd heard stories from my mother of a French trader coming from the mainland. Stories of her falling in love with him. To me, the man was no more than a fairytale.

"Mon père," she voiced my thoughts as I backed away from her and crumpled onto the bed behind me. Her voice was shaking; her entire body was shaking. I couldn't bring myself to care. I was trembling under the weight of her words, drawing in shaky breaths in an attempt to stay calm. I tried to push down all the anger I was harboring, but I had never been good at that.

"You're my fucking sister." I silently let the tears fall, glistening as a stream of the sunset cast a glow upon my face. They ran hot as blood, reducing my face to a puffy mess.

I bit my bottom lip, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to process the myriad of emotions that began to hit me all at once, ensnaring my senses and filling my head with a greater anger than I knew I harbored; it was a whirlwind, thieving everything I knew to be true and scattering it across that cabin floor. And finally, I snapped.

"How could you?" I whispered. I stared at my lap, my eyes narrowing to slits as I heard her draw in a shaky breath.

"How could you be the last family I've got and not even care enough to tell me?" My voice rose in a swift crescendo as I raised my head to face her, everything I was feeling pushing the words at her with the force of ten thousand men.

She only stared at the ground, looking as though she was struggling to keep tears in her eyes that were beginning to redden.

"I'm sorry. I'm so s-sorry."

I scoffed.

"Sorry isn't going to do anything here. Sorry doesn't change the fact that I had to find out about this from Laurens rooting through your book."

"It also doesn't change the fact that I tried to tell you, Alex. I really did."

"Oh yeah, and what happened? Did a pack of wild horses come running through?"

She turned bright red.

"No, I just-" she bit her lip, "It was yesterday, when you started talking about... something else."

"Ah, yes! The other thing you kept from us: your relationship with Lafayette."

"We're not in a relationship!" she yelled, and Laf went redder than her as he stood behind her.

"You know what Alex? I could've told you to your face if you hadn't gone through my private fucking journal. We wouldn't even be in this situation."

I looked into her eyes and saw anger beginning to stir within her.

"And we also wouldn't be in this situation if your father hadn't had an illegitimate child!" I yelled.

Her eyes flashed menacingly at my words, and I almost smiled with the satisfaction that my words were getting to her.

"Don't you bring my father into this!" She jabbed a shaking finger into my chest, her stare boring into my eyes with her burning anger.

"And why the hell not? The whore came to an island, slept with my mother, then left!" I yelled. She looked as though moments away from slapping me.

"That asshole only came back because she was pregnant!"

Her eyes narrowed, and I almost knew what was coming next.

Without missing a beat, she swung her already balled fist at my face and struck me square in the jaw. I was thrown to the side with the force of her blow and grabbed onto the coat hook to my right, trying desperately to stay on my feet.

I pulled myself back up, leaning against the wall and wincing at the sharp stinging in my jaw and the pounding in my head. Her eyes were hardly wide enough to contain the immense shock I could see they held. I swallowed hard; I was practically foaming at the mouth.

I walked slowly towards her, doing everything I could to keep myself from hitting her back, and she began to shrink away from me. Her face was inches from mine, wearing an expression I had never seen on her: pure and undiluted fear.

"Get out of my sight," I hissed. She didn't waste a moment before turning and fleeing our barracks. A lump grew in my throat as I watched her retreating figure disappear from view.

My sister.

I stood rooted to that spot, unable to move. I was shaking. I bit my lip hard, choking back the tears that threatened to spill, that threatened to overcome my demeanor and make me collapse.

"Alex-" John started towards me but I raised a hand to stop him.

"Get some rest, John."

Meredith's POV

I sprinted. I couldn't be in there with them. I knew what I'd done. I also knew I had nowhere to go.

I had to have somewhere.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus on figuring out any sort of plan, no matter how bad. It would always be better than having to face them after that. I continued sprinting away and I refused to rest until I was out of their sight. That finally happened when I reached the front of camp and leaned on the thin wooden wall of the stables, trying desperately to catch my breath.

Then it struck me. It was a long shot, but it was worth trying. The worst they could do was say no.

I turned to the stables next to me and threw open the doors before sprinting over to a rearing York.

"Hey, hey, settle down boy. It's just me." I reached my hand up to stroke his neck and stilled his trembling body. I walked around to his side to mount him and took off riding.

As I rode out of camp for the second time that day, I knew that nothing that night would be definite.

That was why, after I reached the right house, I nearly cried hugging Eliza when she told me I could stay with them.

"It's nothing, Mer. Really, come on in."

I nodded as she pulled away from the hug. I wasn't hiding the fact that I was tearing up; Eliza was a blessing.

"Eliza, thank you so much," I whispered.

"Don't worry about it. Angelica and Peggy are upstairs, let me check with Father first. If he says no, just hide in my closet."

I laughed, despite my rough night.

I went back outside to wait for Mr. Schuyler's answer. York stood right where I left him, waiting obediently for me as always. I smiled and walked over to stroke his mane.

"I love you, boy," I whispered as I pressed my nose to his. If nothing else, my father's stallion would always be there for me.

"Ms. Legrand?" I heard Mr. Schuyler's voice behind me and winced.

"Yes, sir?" I put on an expression of innocent curiosity as I turned to face him.

"Please, come in."

I sighed as I felt the tension melt out of my body. I kissed York's nose after tying him to a fence post in their yard, and proceeded to walk up to the front door of the mansion.

"Now, Ms. Legrand, you're a lovely person and I'd be glad to provide a home for you for the night, but I expect to be present when you explain to my daughters why you need somewhere to stay."

I sighed as I walked into the house.

"Sir, with all due respect, I think you might rather not hear the story. I worry it would make you think less of not only me but my father as well." I'd heard enough against my father for one night; I didn't need more from him when he learned that I was an illegitimate child.

"Please, Ms. Legrand. You have my highest respect from what I know of you already. I doubt this story could do much to ruin that."

I would have bet right there and then that he was wrong.

"If you insist, sir. Now please, may I speak with your daughters?"

On cue, Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy came running down the stairs.

"We're here." Eliza grinned at me.

"What could you have possibly done to get yourself kicked out of there?" Angelica muttered to me as she passed on her way to the couch.

"Too much," I muttered back.

They all took seats in their living room, stares fixed on me as though I was the latest show in the opera hall. I sighed and sat down, beginning to mentally prepare myself for their reactions, and then I started.

I started at the very beginning, telling them the story of my parents and how I was an illegitimate child. I couldn't help but wince at Mr. Schuyler's face when I was at that part; he watched me as though I was the one who'd had a scandal. I made sure to note that Alex was my half-brother, though I didn't use a name, before continuing on to the story of the past few weeks. I explained to them how I'd been trying to tell him, but never had the chance.

And then I reached that night.

I grimaced as I told them how the men had been looking through my journal and Alex recognized my drawing as his mother. My expression only grew more uncomfortable as I had to recount the entire conversation to them, up until I punched Alexander. I sighed, looking around at their horror-stricken faces.

"And now, I assume, you all think less of me?" I had accepted defeat.

"You actually punched him?" Angelica looked moments away from bursting into a fit of laughter. I nodded.

"Would you like to see my bruised knuckles?"

She couldn't hold her laughter in anymore and doubled over, not trying to contain the outburst.

"How hard did you hit the poor man?" Mr. Schuyler interjected.

"Hard enough, sir. And that explains why I'm here, asking you for shelter for just a night. They should all be calm enough tomorrow morning for me to return."

I furrowed my brow, confused at the man's next action. He laughed. I had made many assumptions about him at that point, and that contradicted every single one.

"You're insane, Meredith." Eliza shook her head at me.

"He insulted my father. I couldn't just do nothing."

"You take much pride in your family line, Ms. Legrand?" Mr. Schuyler asked. I nodded.

"More than anything, sir."

"Then, Ms. Legrand, you have earned my unwavering respect. God help the next person who dares insult your family." He sat there, still chuckling, and I gave him a perplexed look.

"Thank you, sir?" I wasn't entirely sure how to react.

"You're welcome here anytime."

I nodded. Angelica grinned and ran over to pull me up the stairs, followed by her sisters.

"And Meredith?"

We all stopped halfway up the staircase and turned to look at Mr. Schuyler.

"I expect more stories from camp whenever you visit."

I grinned.

"Of course, sir."

Angelica took off the rest of the way up to the girls' rooms and I followed her as she weaved through several extensive hallways, two bedrooms, and what looked like a massive library, before she stopped at a bedroom, pushing the door open.

She pulled me in along with her sisters before bursting once again into giggles.

"You punched someone? I'm not even allowed to laugh aloud in the presence of company," she laughed.

"It's not funny, Angelica." I rolled my eyes which only made her laugh harder.

"Seriously, I just fucked up my entire relationship with my brother."

"Then you shouldn't have punched him!" Eliza looked exasperated as she sat onto Angelica's bed.

"I dunno, it made a pretty great story." Peggy shrugged, shoulders shaking with stifled laughter.

"Shut up, Pegs." I playfully shoved her and sat down with Eliza.

"So, your brother, what's he like?" Angelica asked as she and Peggy sat with us.

"Well at this point, anything but singing his praises would make me seem like an asshole, so I'll try to focus on the positive."

They all chuckled.

"He is... actually pretty great. He's witty, though only when he wants to be. You wouldn't know how smart he truly was unless he wanted you to. Though, make no mistake, he is just as egotistical as he is smart."

Angelica raised an eyebrow; Peggy just laughed.

"He's actually rather funny so long as I'm including time spent laughing at him. He will tease people to the brink of insanity, but only out of love."

"He sounds like a good guy." Angelica smiled at my description. I got the feeling he and she would get along well.

"Remember, that was me focusing on his good traits." I chuckled.

"He actually sounds a bit like you." Peggy looked at me curiously.

"I'd say he's a tiny bit like me, though our flaws are not exactly parallel."

"You? Flawed?" Angelica joked and I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, yes, I know it's a shock, but I am, in fact, not perfect after all."

I chuckled along with the three of them, before a long, drawn out yawn escaped me.

"Let me show you to our guest room. It's downstairs and a bit of a walk, but it's a very nice room."

I nodded and followed Angelica down the stairs to a large room, clad all around in beige.

"This is the guest bedroom?" My mouth hung agape at the regal interior, adorned with long silk curtains and gilded wallpaper.

"It is, in fact," she laughed.

"Now that you know where the room is, would you like to stay upstairs with my sisters and me for the remainder of the evening? We'd enjoy your company."

I pursed my lips.

"I don't know, Angelica. I probably need to get back to camp rather early tomorrow; I should get some sleep."

Her face fell and I creased my forehead, wishing I could stay up all night with them.

"I'm sorry, Angie."

"No, it's perfectly fine." She sighed but smiled. "You have to train every day as a soldier, no? It just gets a bit dull, every day here with the same old people."

"You know, you could join the revolution with me. I'm sure General Washington would be more than thrilled to have another soldier enlisted."

She chuckled, shaking her head.

"My father would be ready to kill me if I even brought up such a notion. Just try to visit often?"

I nodded and gave her a warm smile, which she returned before she walked out of the room. She shut the door behind her, and I dropped onto the warm quilt that covered the bed behind me. I pulled off my boots, almost completely the color of the mud, and sighed. They wouldn't be easy to clean off. That was the last thought that crossed my mind before I began to drift off, asleep before I even hit the mattress.

I was abruptly woken by a knock at the door. I thought at first someone was trying to enter my room, but after a moment I realized that the person was outside of the house altogether. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to make it sit presentably before I answered the door. It was clearly just after dawn, everything outside my window was still asleep aside from the birds twittering about.

I pulled open first the door to my bedroom, and then found why the knock on the front door had woken me so easily. The front door was no more than two feet from my bedroom, and I cursed the Schuylers' floor plan for ruining my sleep. I rolled my eyes at whoever in their right mind was up at the crack of dawn already knocking on doors.

My eyes were no longer rolling, but widening in surprise when I saw who stood on the other side of the door.

"Meredith? Merde, I was so worried." Lafayette cupped my face in his hands and looked as though he was examining it for any signs of me having hurt myself. "Are you alright? Did you get any sleep? Are-"

"Calm down, it's too early for this." I removed his hands from my face.

"Why are you here? And why are you so worried?" I held his arms, trying to make him calm down enough to explain.

"Last night, after you left, some piqûre started the rumor that redcoats had abducted you off the streets. I was taking a walk around camp, trying to find you, when I heard them talking about it."

I groaned.

"Did you really think any of them were right? They think we slept together, for God's sake," I snapped, grumpy from just being woken up.

"I know, but since you had just run off, I didn't know where you had gone. I was just worried..." he trailed off, looking down. I sighed.

"Thank you, Laf, but I don't need you to worry for me. How'd you find me here anyway?"

His head shot up and he began to talk again.

"I went downtown last night to look for you, clearly to no avail, and then after a long time I found Burr sitting on a park bench reading. I asked him if he'd seen you and he said no, but he'd seen you with the Schuyler sisters earlier in the week, so I came here."

My eyes widened in shock as I realized how disheveled he actually looked.

"My god, were you out all night?"

He nodded, smiling weakly.

"This is easily the stupidest thing you've ever done." I pinched the bridge of my nose, shaking my head. "I appreciate it all the more, Laf."

I hugged him, grateful to have someone who would spend all night looking for me because of a rumor. He flinched at first, but soon wrapped his arms around me as well. He began to twist a lock of my hair between his forefinger and thumb when I finally pulled away.

"Do you want to come in? Have breakfast with us?" I asked. His arms still rested around my back and fiddled with my unkempt hair.

He didn't meet my eyes.

"Laf?"

"The guys don't know I'm here. I left after they were all asleep."

I sighed.

"And you need to get back quickly so they don't know you went to find me?" I finished his thought.

"Meredith, I am sorry-"

"No, no it's alright. Get back to camp. I'll see you later today." I averted my gaze to the ground, rolling a pebble under my foot.

"Mer," he started.

"Really, it's fine. Leave."

"Look at me, Mer."

"Laf, I really need you to leave. Everyone's going to be up soon."

He dropped his arms from my back and I raised my head to look at him, though I instantly regretted it. He furrowed his brows, his entire face screwed up into an expression of hurt. I knew that I'd caused it.

"Fine, I'll leave. Goodbye, Meredith." He turned and began to walk away from me, but I caught his arm

"Wait-"

He yanked his arm from my grip.

"Au revoir," he said, looking at me as though I was a stranger.

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair as I watched him mount his horse. He wouldn't meet my eyes; he took off at a full gallop.

I rubbed my temples as I walked back inside the Schuyler mansion. I couldn't help feeling like I'd ruined another relationship with someone I cared about.

I found Eliza sitting at their kitchen table, wearing a smirk. I didn't ask why.

"What was that about?" She took a sip of her coffee, watching me amusedly as I sat down across from her.

"It was... nothing. He was just worried."

She nodded, her sly smile growing.

"Okay, why are you smiling like that?" I asked, already feeling defeated by the day.

"Was that one of the men from your barracks? I only heard the beginning of your conversation."

"Yes, what does that have to do with anything?"

She giggled.

"Mer, why didn't you tell us you were courting someone?"

My face almost instantly turned to a deep red.

"No, no, my god, no." I hid my face in my hands. "No."

When I felt confident that my blush had subsided, I raised my head to look at her. Her smirk had grown.

"We're definitely not courting, Eliza. That was just a friend."

"Come on, Mer. You can't get anything past me. Just wait till I tell Angelica and Peggy." She wiggled her eyebrows at me and I groaned.

"Just wait till they realize you're wrong."

"You say that as though I am."

I rolled my eyes. She would be the death of me.

"Whatever, Eliza. I need to get to camp. Tell them I said goodbye." I motioned up to the room above us.

"I'll be sure to include everything I heard from your conversation out there too." She winked, giggling, and I rolled my eyes once more.

"Thanks again for letting me stay here, Eliza," I said as I walked to the front door and out of the mansion.

"Hey boy." I walked over to where York stood, exactly where I'd left him. I stroked his nose, coaxing him out of his state of sleep. He whinnied softly.

"I know, I'm tired too. Let's go, big guy." I mounted him but only brought him to a slow walk down the cobblestone streets of town. I was in no rush to get back to camp.

After what could have been an hour, I reached the point where the paved stone streets turned into the unkempt dirt roads of camp. I sighed as I finally had to tie York back up at the stables, preparing for a very unpleasant day at camp.

I walked back to my barracks with my head held high despite my demeanor. I was prepared for their anger; I was prepared for tension hanging thick in the air.

What I wasn't prepared for as I opened the door, though, was nothing. No words, hostile or otherwise, no actions, no acknowledgement of my existence whatsoever.

I frowned as I sat onto my bed and pulled out a book, hoping to pass time to the best of my ability. Luckily, my efforts were not necessary for long when a small, nervous-looking man entered our barracks. All heads turned to look at him; he appeared to be shaking.

"I c-come with a message from the General." Hamilton's ears perked up at that, but I just frowned.

"Yes?" Alex prompted him to continue.

"I-It's for a Meredith Legrand?"

I sighed heavily. Couldn't the world leave me alone for a day?

"Yes, I am she."

"You're to see him i-immediately. H-he says his reasons are classified." He quickly bowed before rushing back out the door. Alex scowled behind me, and I couldn't help but resent him. It wasn't as though I had asked for a meeting with General Washington.

I stood and walked back down the dirt roads to Washington's cabin. My knocking on the tall wooden door was met with a 'come in,' not to mention from an exhausted voice. I furrowed my eyebrows before entering the building. When I reached the end of his hall, I found him nearly collapsed on his meeting table.

"Meredith, thank God. I'm sorry you have to see me like this." He rubbed his temples, leaning on the table. He looked utterly exhausted. The dark bags under his eyes hung heavier than ever; his coat was cast carelessly aside.

"It's fine, sir. What do you need?" I slowly took a seat in the chair opposite him.

"I have something to ask you. Don't answer right away; please, let me explain the situation first."

I furrowed my brow and shifted in my seat, uneasy, as I was clueless about where he was going with that.

"Okay, sir?"

He took a deep breath and folded his hands on the table before looking me in the eye and asking, "Meredith, would you be willing to..."


End file.
